PS 635 
.Z9 
B958 
Copy 1 



The Lost 



Diamonds. 



A PLAY 

IN ONE SCENE AND ONE TABLEAU. 



BY 
C. P. B. BVRaWYN, 

A. B. , C. B. . M. AM. SOC. C B. , 

AUTHOR OP "THE HUQUENOT LOVERS," 



THE LOST DIAMOND 



A PLAY 



IN ONE SCHNH AND ONH TABLEAU. 



C. P. K. BUR(iWYN, 

A. H., C. K., M. AM. SOC. C. K., 
AUTHOR OF "THK HUCUKXO-r I.OVKRS. 



J. \V. RANDOLPH & CO., PUBLISHERS. 
1894. 



-pc 



Entered according to Act of Congi'ess, in the year 1894, by 
CoLLiNsnx PiERR?:i'ON'T Er)\VARr>s BuRGWvx, in the Office 
of the Librarian of Congress at Washington. 
All rights reserved. 



TMP92-00a742 



DRAMATIS PERSON/E. 



Samuel Slaughter, Esq., A Western Millionaire. 

Laura, His Daughter, somewhat romantic. 

Napoleon Bonaparte C.^jsar, An F. F. V. 

Peyton Randolph, Another F. F. V. 

Archibald Arundel, Esq., A Reputed English Nobleman. 

Sergeant, One of the Finest. 

Policeman, His Shadow. 

SCENE. 
A Villa at a Fashionable Seaside Resort. 

TABLEAU— Two Years Later. 
The Altar and the Halter. 



THE LOST DIAMOND. 



\Cnrtain rifles, discovering Cccsar.'\ 

C^.SAR : Fore de Lord. Hur am me, Napoleon Bonaparte 
Caesar, whar hab consented to sarve dese {novo riches), am cum 
to sich a pass dat I am called a niggar, and a black niggar at 
dat. I've hurd no sich aspussion since enduring ob de war, 
when dat calvryman tuk liberties wid my pusson. \_Reflecf- 
ively.'] Dat am no gemmum whar addresses sich reflection 
pon me. Old Kurnel Peyton used ter say, Caesar, you knows 
a gemmum whar \ou sees one. Now^ you put the gemmums 
togedder, and de poor white trash you seats wid demselves. I 
neber calls a man a gemmum whar ain't one. I'll git eben wid 
dat — dat — dat — nincompoop or bust. Oh ! how am de mighty 
fallen! Here is de young missus done sent me for to fin' her 
dorg. If I finds him I'll drown him right in dese — dese — bil- 
lows. Lord sakes ! dar she am. Wouldn't I kotch goss if she 
hurd what I'.se sed 1 [/f.r// al P. Laura enters froni />', call- 
ing as she enters.~\ 

L.\i'RA : Flossie! Flossie! Here, Mossie. I wonder where 
Flossie can be ! \^Looks aronnd.'\ Can it be that she has gone 
down among those rocks into the water ? Flossie ! Flossie ! 
Oh ! there she is. Here, Flossie, come here. Mercy, she'll 
get drowned. Help! help! help! 

Enter Randolph at E : What is it? Who needs help? 

Laura: There, Flossie, mj- dog ; oh! save her; do save her, 
and I will give you anything. [^Ra>idolph leaps over the railing, 
instantly disappearing. Laura 7cri)igs her hands, leans far over 
the railing, then draws backf\ 



6 The Lost Diamond. 

Laura: Splendid ! what a leap ! Oh ! Flossie ' 11 drown before 
he reaches her — saved ! [/;^ a minute or two Randolph enters at 
D. with the dog, which immediately disappears off the stage ; 
then he leisurely approaches Laura, who starts towards the dog, 
but stops and turns to Randolph, takes out her purse, and offers 
him a coin.^ 

Laura : I hope you will not be offended if I offer you a 
small token of my appreciation of your — your energetic action. 

Randolph: [Folding his arms, advances sloivly towards her, 
keeping his eyes intently on hers.~\ A little while ago you offered 
me anything ; now you offer me what would be worse than 
poison were I to take it. 

Laura : {Starts and looks as if trying to recall a thought.'] It 
is true I offered you anything, but that meant nothing. I want 
to show gratitude, but you repel it. Won't you name some- 
thing which I can give you ? 

Randolph : You can give me many things, many of which 
I might be unable to appreciate. \Comes a little nearer, still 
eyeing her intently.] There is one thing you might give me 
which would deprive you of no treasure, but which would 
recompense me far more than I am worthy. \_A pause. Laura 
t7C'ists her hands someivhat nervously, a?id averts her face.] 

Laura : What recompense do you want ? 

Randolph : The gift of a recollection hereafter that fate 
once decreed that you should prove kind. Let me carry the 
memory of my present good fortune as an antidote against 
whatever ills the future may have in store for me. [He pauses, 
and during the silence cautiously takes her ha?id.] 

Laura : [Breaks aicay from him.] How dare yo\x talk to me 
like that ? Do you not know I could summon those who would 
punish you for such presumption ? 

Randolph: [Calmly folds his arms ; draics himself up to full 
height.] If you wish to test ni}' courage, you have but to 



The Lost Diamond. y 

speak the word, and this time I trust to be able to exhibit it 
more successfullw \_P(7/(S6\s\ They look at each other intently?^ 
But enough for the present. I will be more generous than you, 
for I will absolve you of your del)t to nie, and offer an atone- 
ment for my offence towards >-ou. 

Voices: Laura! Laura! where are you, Laura? 

Laura: They are calling me. We are gi\-ing a party to- 
night, and I must go to receive my guests. I must say good- 
b3-e. S^Starts rapidly off at first, tlioi slo7cIy ascends the steps and 
turns round at the door. ^ (;ood-b\e. [/'.'i/y.] 

Randolph: \Sta)ids looking at the- door for a short time. 
Music strikes up behind door.^ How often ! oh ! how often have 
I formed part in such a scene ! How often has it wearied me 
to listen to the ignorant vaporings of such a throng, and yet 
now that none are near to vouch for ni}- — respectability — I am 
debarred an entrance. What would m\- l)oon companions say 
if they knew how to-night I envy those who. are privileged to 
hold converse with that fair }oung girl? I wonder who she 
can be, an}- way ! {^Pauses. ^ She must be the daughter of the 
house. \^Pauses.^ There is no use of my staying here; I 
might as well leave. \^Refiects.^ I will, however, wait in 
these recesses a little while, and, unolxserved, be a witness to 
their gaiety. 

[A"r// at B . Enter Sergeant and Policeman from P and /f. 
yjuy crouch ajid walk stealthily forivard.^ 

Policeman: Sergeant! Sergeant! 

Sergeant: Meh boy. 

Policeman : Is this the place where we were to meet to-night ? 

Sergeant: You have sized the pile, meh boy. 

Policeman : Can it be true that these high-steppers are 
guilty of such crimes ? 

Sergeant : They are high-steppers, and some step too high ; 
the>- generally come down to stepping ver>' low. 



8 The Lost Diamond. 

Policeman : Sergeant, you are too many for me. 

Sergeant: Well, meh boy, you are but a kid in this busi- 
ness. It is like this : Some little notice is taken of a young 
buck, which often turns his head. He leaps forward and hits 
the mud : he gets spattered. He must keep up appearances, so 
he changes raiment and makes a still wilder plunge. If he does 
not then check himself, it generally results that we are called in 
to check him up. We are the boys that can do the checking. 
Compronny voo? 

Police:\ian : Ich ferstayen see nicht. Sa}', Sergeant, they 
surely do not steal. 

Sergeant : Oh ! no, my lamb ! They never steal. They 
appropriate. You will find our high-stepper of to-night as 
good an appropriator as a pension shark. 

Policeman : All right, Sergeant. Show me the game. I 
will bag him or bust. 

Sergeant : It is this : The theft of the diamonds was com- 
mitted in so unprofessional a manner that we knew it was none 
of the boys. The chief sized up a clue, and, gad zooks ! it is one 
of the Four Hundred themselves. We have traced one of the 
rings here to-night, and we will land our fish as prettily as you 
please. But it must be done in a genteel way. There must 
be no scene. We must stand by the record as the finest, and 
take our man by himself. Come, meh boy, let us take on a 
move, even as we will take up our man. 

\^Exit Sergeant and Policeman at B and C. Enter Randolph at /7.] 
Randolph : I have demeaned myself so far as to watch at 
the further windows in the vain hope of catching another 
glimpse of a pretty face. Who would believe that of all men I 
should be such a fool? And yet there is a mysterious some- 
thing which draws me irresistibly to this spot to-night. I 
wonder if it can be true that in some unknown way one mind 
can be influenced by another when far off! I feel a strong 



The Lost Dia:\i()nd. 9 

force impelling me to linger around this house ; >et reason warns 
me away. Oh ! for human companionship. I who have so 
often longed to be alone am now desirous of fellowship, and 
with such as these. I suppose I am being punished for ni},- 
former exclusiveness. The mills of the gods grind slowly, but 
the\' grind exceedingh' small. \^Enter Ccesar from door.] 
Hello! here comes one whose mouth I can open readily, 
though he were as dumb as an oyster in its shell. I will find 
out from him who my enchantress may be. [Addressing- Qrsar.] 
Good evening, Uncle, how does your corporosities seem to sa- 
gaciate on this festive occasion? 

C^SAR : l^Eyes him critically for a miiiiite.] Sarvent, sar- 
vent, sar. I gibes you my abesence ; I addresses, sar, a likely 
gemmum. 

Randolph : Here, Uncle [a'/:'/;/;' him a coin], here is a little 
something for you to remember me by [asidt'], even as you call 
to remembrance my old plantation home. 

C^SAR : I see, sar, dat I sizes 3'ou up kerrectly. 

Randolph : What size, Uncle, am 1 then in your reckoning? 

C.^SAR : You observe, sar, dat I squestrates all pus.sons inter 
three sorts: dem wliar am gemmums, an' doan try to be; dem 
whar tries to be, an' ain't; an' dem whar ain't, an' doan try to 
be. I sizes you, sar, among de fust. 

Randolph: (xood enough, old man. And now that 3'OU 
have sized me up, I'll tote far, and size you. You belonged to 
one of the old families. Who are these people, and how come 
you with them ? 

C\*;sAR : Dat, sar, am easih' splained. Dese pussons am de 
rich Slaughters from de West. I is poor Caesar from de Souf. 
I gits der money, and dey habs my sperience. 

Randolph : Is he Mr. Samuel Slaughter, of Chicago, who 
in 1863 w^as connected with the department at Johnston Island? 

C^SAk: 1 b'hebs he wtiz, sar, 



lo The Lost Diamond. 

Randolph : Is Miss Laura his daughter, who at that time was 
little child, and who often brought flowers to the prisoners? 

C^.SAR : Yes, sar. She am now de young missus. She am, 
sar, a pearl afore de swine. Dey is gibbing dis part}- ter show 
her off afore de young bucks. I calls it scandlous, sar, dis way 
ob doin' ; dat when a young gal gets grown, dey axes all de 
gemmums to come and luk at hur and see how dey like hur. 
Dey goes off and talks 'bout hur like she war a race-hoss up for 
sale. 

Randolph : \_Asidt\^ Impertinent puppies. I would hke 
to catch one doing it. [To Ccrsar.~\ I suppose there are a 
number of these young bucks sampling her, as >'ou call it. 

C.^SAR : No, sar ; not many. Dere is de son ob de brewer, 
den dere is de nephew ob dat hog-killer, an' dat ar railroad 
pusson, an' a preacher, an' dat man whar tries to sing, an' — 
an ' — an ' — dat 

Randolph : For mercy's sake ! are there any more ? 

C^SAR : Only a few more, sar. Dere's dat honery cuss 
whar called me a niggar. 

Randolph : The scoundrel ! 

C^SAR : He am for a fact, sar. I nose he am no gemmum. 
lCo??tes closer to Randolph and loiccrs his voice.'] An' I b'liebs, 
sar, dat he am a don rite scalawag, and I'd like ter see his 
head punched. 

Randolph : All right, old man. You show him to me, and 
I'll fix him for you. See here ! [He bri7igs his hand heavily 
doicn on Ccesar s shoulder, and lifts him up by the coat at the nape 
of the neck. Cccsar gets up on tiptoe.] 

C^SAR : 'Fore de Lord, sar, who wud ha' thought dat you 
wuz as strong as dat. I'll pint him out ter yer widout fail. 
You jist circumambiate round here fur a while and I'll luk him 
up. [Exit CcEsar at B, Randolph at C. Enter Laura from 
balcony wiyidow.] 



The Lost Dia:\iond. i i 

Laura : How glad I am to get away from those heated 
rooms and those tiresome people. Wh>' is it that among all 
that crowd there is no one man who towers above all the rest, 
whose touch I could endure, and who would prove himself my 
master? My father would rejoice to see me married, and I dare 
say there are some among these ver>' people who would satisfy 
his choice, but not mine. I wonder how my future lord will 
be? I would like him to be tall and strong, and yet so gentle 
that he would not harm a living thing. His voice should be 
low and sweet, but when put forth should show determination 
in its tone. His eyes should shine as soft as moonlight on a 
sylvan scene, but flash like lightning when his soul's aroused. 
His face, ah, me ! Beauty in a man I do despise. It shows 
effeminacy in the graceful lines. It is a rugged manhood that 
I most adore. [^Pauses. Randolph n'-e/ih'?-s.^ I wonder who it 
was that rescued Flossie from a watery grave. He must have 
thought my conduct light in that he seemed presumptuous in 
his eager way. I almost thought it was a dream when first he 
touched me. Would he were here, that I might put his cour- 
age to the test again. 

Randolph : Your thought, fair lad}-, is answered by my 
wish. Say but the word which weighs my courage in the 
wavering balance, and I'll essay my best to prove it. 

Laura : Who are you, tliat comes upon me so unawares 
when I was talking to myself? 

Randolph : I am one whom you, when a child at Johnston 
Island, sometimes favored with a gift of flowers. Your ancient 
retainer has just now dubbed me a "gemmum." I have en- 
deavored to do justice to such a title. 

Laura : It does begin to seem as if I had known you a long 
time. 

Randolph : Time is best measured in the minds of men by 
some great action which it falls upon. 



12 The Lost Diamond. 

Laura : Did you not just now rescue Flossie? How came 
3'ou there? 

Randolph : Fate, not I, preserved your pet. Strange chance 
brought me to-night once more within the magic of your 
beauty's charm. Again a chance brought my ungoverned 
footsteps where your unconscious words fell thrilling on my 
listening ears. Your strange confession has so fired my soul 
that it is eager to put forth its power. Tell me wherein I may 
show that courage which you dwelt upon. 

Laura ; I should have been more careful in giving to my 
wandering thoughts an echo for a listening ear. I would take 
it back were not words so lightly spoken far beyond my own 
recall. 

Randolph : Oh ! do not grudge me that. To-night has ush- 
ered in upon nn- aimless life a beacon light to guide it to some 
worthy sphere. (Hve me but hope, and I will scorn the world's 
disdain. 

Laura : Hope on, since you will have it so. When the 
fabled goddess let loose upon a stricken world those ills to 
which mankind is prone, she kept back Hope. Fll be as gen- 
erous as she, and give you hope. 

Randolph : Then, by that eternal hope which ever fills the 
voids of man's aspiring dreams, I swear to you I will strive on. 
Give me the right to call you Love, and I'll hew out a path to 
lead up to it. 

Laura : You are too sudden, too passionate, in your urgent 
pleading. Fire that burns too fiercely soon burns out. It is 
the smouldering flame that lingers on. 

Randolph : It is the Hghtning's flash whose spark elec- 
trifies the world. 

VoiCEvS : Laura ! Laura ! 

Laura : They summon me away. I must be gone. 

Randolph : It cannot be that Fate envies me so soon my 



The Lost Dia^niond. 13 

new-found joy. It raised nie from despair, but lo des])air 
again. 

Voices : Laura ! Laura ! 

Laura : Hope is not des])air. LU see you soon again. 

Randolph : Time till then will move with a laggard's tread, 
(live me a token which I can consecrate as an antidote against 
slow-moving time. 

Laura : An outward token is but a visual sign. Take that 
as a charm against all unknown harm. \_Otfcrs him her ha)ui.\ 

Voices: Laura! Where are you, Laura? 

S^Randolpli passio7iatcly clasps her hand, takes a t ing ojf her finger, 
and puts his 07cn in its place. ^ 

Randolph : There is an inward and spiritual grace in this 
small band of burnished gold. It is to me a memento of my 
most cherished thoughts. Keep it as an imagery of me until I 
can replace it by another by which the holy church incorporates 
two in one. 

Voices : [^Directly at the %vindoic.^ Laura ! Laura ! 

Laura: Here I am, and coming. \^To Randolph.^ I will 
return again. [^Exit at 7i'i}ido7c.~\ 

Randolph : \_Holds ring up to light.'\ Hail, glorious light, 
which, flashing from these polished stones, to me is harbinger 
of bright hope ! Yet how often has >our ethereal flash lured 
men to murder and to heinous crimes. Strange myster>', that 
your pure gleam should so kindle the sordid desires of ill- 
governed minds that men ha\'e often poised the worth of their 
immortal souls against the joy of your possession, that vir- 
tuous women should have sold their priceless heirloom for such 
fatal gems ! I will place you here \_puts ring on his fi7iger\ 
where your flashing rays can do no harm. It may light me on 
my way to Mantua. Meanwhile, until the sun of my existence 
re-appears, or else until the rosy-tinted, earl\- morn ushers in 



14 The Lost Diamond. 

the day and stamps these fond illusions as but visions of a 
dream, I will wait here. How light my senses feel, and how 
bright these deep shades. [Ex/f at /?.] 

Arundel: {^Enter from door. '\ "What fools these mortals 
be!" Here am I, the brilHant son of an honest shoemaker, 
instead of sticking to my last, have stuck to the pose of a dis- 
honest nobleman, and all society is at my feet. As Tom Scrug- 
gins 1 was ignored. As Archibald Arundel, Esq., a younger 
scion of an English family, and heir presumptive to a pre- 
sumptive title, 1 am adored. 1 snub the father, and he apolo- 
gizes for not doing more for me ; I patronize the son, and he 
subsides in my presence, but when I am gone he apes my 
jackass ways. 1 bull>- the mother, and she flies from the field, 
leaving the daughter behind ; 1 make an advance to her, and — 
well, she rushes into my arms. The girls are just delightful. 
One can put up with their folly. I have half a mind to disap- 
pear and then re-appear as Abdul Asisnt, Pasha, Bashi Bayouk, 
Grand (ruyascutis, and openly demand the hands of a dozen 
maidens ; and, by the eternal, I believe I could set the fashion 
and march off with the maidens ! But would there not be an 
awakening? There would be a regular "go." I would be 
a-going, and the maidens would be gone. I beheve old Crcesus 
here would look not unfavorably upon me as a son-in-law. 1 
must have money. What wnth bullying my tailor, humbug- 
ging the hotel clerk, and borrowing from my so-called friends, 
1 have managed so far to get along with but few payments in 
cash ; but these infernal waiters expect a fee ever}' time I turn 
around, and they have about cleaned me out. I must elevate 
old Boreas, which is to say, "raise the wind" somehow, or I 
am a gone goose myself. That was a clever dodge to quietly 
steal — oh, no! not steal, appropriate — those diamonds the other 
night, and give one to Miss Croesus. I have already thrown 
overboard several anchors to windward. My famiharities with 



The Lost Diamond. 15 

the waiters and bootblacks ha\e taken immensely, but my 
overtures to old Croesus's (lanymede have thus far failed. I 
called him a nigger, thinking I would tickle him hugely, but 
the old chap didn't like it a bit. The next time 1 will call him 
a coon, and if that does not lit the bill, I will immortalize him 
as Caesar Scipio Senegambiensis. 1 do not like the cast of that 
fellow's eye. If I am any judge of human nature, he thinks 
he owes me some grudge. Here he comes now. \^Ente7' Ccesar.^ 
Hello, old coon ! How high must the chicken roost to-night? 

C.ESAK : Dat depends, sar, "pon de hawk dat is abroad. I'se 
her ter keep him off. \^Aside.'\ My pretty chick shan't be caught 
by dis her hawk, if Caesar's got the gumption as he thinks he 
has. 

Ari'NDEL: (iood enough! Here is something with which 
to get an eye opener, so that you can be sure to keep other 
hawks awa>'. \ContemptuoHsIy tosses him a coin.^ 

Cesar: \^Picks up coin deliberately and hands it back.^ I 
neber receibes a sarvice, sar, whar none was gil)ben in ex- 
change. 

Ari'NDEI. : \^\\liistles7\ W^ell, you are a rare bird [contem- 
plates him cnrionslv, then icrathfullv^ ; most rare among these 
many cormorants. Clear out from here! Your black visage 
to me presages more ill omens than that sombre-hued raven 
that could only croak for the lost l.enore. (ict out, I say! 
[Makes a plnni>;e at Caesar, "a'ho tnrns and runs. Kicks at him 
as he turns. Cicsar re-appears 7chen his back is turned, and shakes 
a razor at him. ^ 'I'hat is one way to treat these fools. The 
more a snob bullies them the more subservient they become. 
Here comes old Croesus. I'll ask him for his daughter. [Puts 
on eye-glasses and strikes an attitude. Enter Slaughter at the 
door.'] 

Slaughter: Well, my ],ord, 1 hope \-ou do not find our 
little entertainment so very bad, Of course we can't do things 



i6 The LOvST Diamond. 

like you English swells, but it helps to " passey lee temps," as 
Frenchy would saj-. 

Arundel: Ah! bah Jove, might be worse; but don't call 
me lawd. Don't cher know we English drop our titles when 
we cross the pond? 

SlaitghtER: Yes, Mr. — Mr. — Arundel, that is, my lord, 
but you know you can't divest yourself of your distinguished 
air, which so asserts itself. 

Arundel: That's so; bah Jove, blood will tell. 

Slaitghter : Yes, blood will tell. See here, my lord, I have 
a filly of my own flesh and blood, worth more to me than all the 
revenues in the land. I want to see her mated well before I 
die, which may come much sooner than most people might ex- 
pect, for my physician warns me. She shall not come empty- 
handed, I can assure you. \_Pauses, 7caits for- A7 undel to speak. ~\ 

Ari'NDEL: Right, quite right you are, bah Jove. In that 
you are very wise. 

Slaughter: Now, my lord, what better match for her than 
to unite with some member of the Pmglish nobility, the race 
that ever has been foremost in the world, and which has sired 
the bravest men who ever lived. \_Paiises again, ivipcs off per- 
spiration, looks to him to speak. ^ 

Arundel: Bah Jove. S^Pajises.^ Ah! ah! 

Slaughter: \_Attempts once or tivice to speak.'\ I see, my 
lord, that your great modest}- prevents you from saying what 
must be uppermost in your mind. Let me say it for you? 

Arundel : Yaws ! ah, yaws ! 

Slaughter: Suppose you take my daughter? 

Ar i' N DE L : \_Siippressing delight. ] Well , ah ! don ' t cher know , 
I'll think about it. 

Slaughter: Come, that's right; she shall be prepared for 
this great honor. 

Arundel: Say, don't cher know we noblemen have to live 



The T.ost Diamond. 



17 



in some little style. Now, until I succeed to the title, I will 
not be able to maintain a wife with such rank as should be- 
come her sta — 

Slaughter: \_Interriipti)ioiy^^ 'I'hat's all rii^ht. I will pro- 
vide well for her. 

Arundel: Ah! yaws. Don't cher know, l)ut a fellow don't 
want to go to his wife for what he needs. 

Slaughter : Hem ! Your own estate should furnish you 
with that. 

Aritndel : Yaws ; but my friend Wales requires so much 
from those who marry— ah — outside, that I could not as >et 
meet with such demands. 

Slaughter: Would she see the Prince? 

Arundel : Of course ; I always go with Wales to the palace. 

Slaughter : Then she would see the Queen? 

Arundel : Ah ! that depends. She might go with me, but 
not with her famih', that is, with you. 

Slaughter : But you would let me visit my child? 

Arundtl : Yaws ; sometimes. 

Slaughter: \^After reflection.^ Well, well, young folks 
don't care much for old folks. So long as she is happy, why 
should I wish to hamper her? Her poor old father would be 
like a fish out of water among such swells. What you say has 
some weight in it. How much money do you want? 

Arundel: \Coolly.^ A hundred thousand. 

Slaughter: Dollars? 

Arundel: Naw ; pounds. Dollars are too vulgar for me. 

Slaughter: That means a round half-million just for you? 

Arundel : Exactly so. Wales requires it ; nobility obliges it. 

Slaughter: It shall be as you say. When will the cere- 
mony take place? 

Arundel : The sooner the better. 

Slaughter : Very well. This little understanding about 



i8 The Lost Diamond. 

the money had best be between you and me. If my daughter 
hears of it she might fly the track. 

Arundel : Yaws ; quite right. I shall not mention it. 

Slaughter: Shake hands, my boy. S^They shake J\ A great 
load has been lifted from my mind. 1 shall be content when 
she takes her stand with those about the Queen. I'll go and 
prepare the wa>'. [AlivV Slauo- liter by door.^ 

Arundel: \^'rakes off his eye-glass and cuts a caper. ^ Ye 
gods and little fishes ! Now let me sacrifice a cock-roach to 
Venus and a scape-goat to Mars ! I'om Scruggins, old boy, you 
are e pluribits unuiu. The little learning that >'ou got at 
school has served you marvellously well. What might I not 
have learned had I then learnt much more? The old man has 
been prompt. Here comes the girl. \^Pi(ts back his eye-o/ass, 
and attitudinizes.^ 

Laura : \_Enters from />'.] 1 hope, my lord, you do not find 
our guests so dull that you seek seclusion here ? 

Arundel : Ah, naw. Don't cher know, one kaunt always 
talk. 

Laura : Yes ; but there are many here who would do all the 
talking for you. You need but listen. 

Arundel : Yaws. Sometimes listening is quite a bore. 

Laura : To me listening is often tiresome, yet I am con- 
strained to do it. \^Moves tojvards door.^ 

Arundel: Stay. 1 hope listening to me does not constrain you. 

Laura : \Coquettishly.'\ Not much. 

Arundel : I have something to say to you. 

Laura : S^More coquettishly.^ You have something to say. I 
thought, my lord, you usually said nothing. 

Arundel: Nothing to other girls. \frenderlyl\ pA'erything 
to you. 

Laura : \Seriously .^ To say everything, my lord, takes 
time. My guests require my time to-night. \_Moves off again. ~\ 



The Lost Diaimond. 



19 



Arundel: \_lVar;///);_o ///>.] 1 am ycnir guest to-night. Let 
me have that time. 

Laitra : \_Aoain coqucttishly .^ At your service, my lord. 

Arundel: \^After a pausi\\ (an you not guess what it is 1 
have to say ? 

LaurvV : No ; I am not good at guessing. 

Arundel : Other girls would be only too glad to talk to me. 

Laura : Then why do not you listen to them ? 

Arundel : Because I had much rather talk to you. \^L'omcs 
nearer. Talks earnestly.^ You know very well when in sport I 
put a diamond ring on your hand that there lay hid behind the jest 
a deeper meaning. Can you not divine what that meaning was ? 

Laura: The power of divination, my lord, does not convey 
the right to tell. 

Arundel: Then let me tell you; you should know. You 
must know^ I love you ; that I long to place ujton your brow 
my coronet, which done, my world would call >-ou Countess. 
{^Pauses conceitedly .^ What do you say ? 

Laura : S^Rcflectively.^ To me such honor would be naught 
compared to love. 

Arundel : Why not unite the two in one ? 

Laura : \_Decisivelv.^ No, my lord ; I cannot give my heart 
nor take your hand. 

Arundel: \^Ano;rilv.^ You reject me, then i* 

Laura : \Sadly.A^ Say it not so harshly. Refusal is best 
couched in gentle words. 

Arundel: S^More angrily. ^ You don't know what you are 
about. I have your father's consent. He will compel \'ou to 
marry me. 

Laura : [^Spiritedly. ~\ My father could never compel me to 
do such a thing. He w^ould not, even if he could. 

Arundel : You had better bew-are. I say you shall marry 
me ! \_Sei2es her hand.A^ 



20 The Lost Diamond. 

Laura : [^Breaks incar.'\ This is America, not England. 
An insult to an unprotected woman here finds swift avenging. 
I'll leave you to cooler reflections. 

[^Disappears tlirough door. Arundel hesitates, then follozcs her. 
Enter Randolph at D. Walks sloicly foricard, examining the 
riyig. Enter Sergeant and Polieenian from B and C. They 
dog his steps.^ 

Randolph : Were it not for this substantial emanation I 
would say that I had dreamed. But things must be real. 
Here is the sea, and there is the door behind whose gates there 
may be souls who have abandoned hope. But, judging from 
the sound of merriment within, they are sporting with Hope's 
half-sister, Jo>'. And she who has raised so high my hope of 
joy is also there. Oh! may the blighting touch of everlasting 
Time rest gently on her when the season comes. Oh ! that my 
eyes could feast upon her form once more, if but to satisfy the 
hunger of my soul ! \Goes up to the 7vindo7v. Sergeant on one 
side. Policeman on the other, seise him. He shakes them oJf.~\ 
Hands off, friends. [ They i>iake another grab at him. He knocks 
one down, then the other. Both get up. Sergeant bloics a whis- 
tle. Tii'o more Policemen appear.^ 

Sergeant : You are my prisoner. Trapped at last ! If you 
don't quit your fooling, I'll put these bracelets on you. [^Holds 
up handc2iffs.~\ 

Randolph : Prisoner ? For what offence ? 

Sergeant : That's too thin. Sicque him, boys ! \_Eirst 
Policeman makes a dive at him, and is knocked down at once. 
The others are about to close in on him, 2che?i Ct^sar appears.^ 

C/EvSAR : 'Fore Gord ! Cret out ob here, ye honery cusses ! 
What for you insult a gemmum like dis ? 

Sergeant: Stand aside, Cuffee ; we don't want you. \fThey 
all make a dive for Randolph. \ 



The Lost Diamond. 21 

C\4^SAK : I'll Cuffee you. \^/)ra-a\s a lari^e 7-azor and makes at 
them. They all run. E7iter Slang- hter.A^ 

Slaughter : What means all this noise? 

Sergeant: It means, Boss, that we have caged the bird. 

Slaughter: What bird? Where is an>- cage? Don't nou 
know better than to create such a fuss about my house? 

Sergeant: See here, Boss, while you are frolicking, we are 
working. We have traced the stolen diamonds to this house 
to-night, and find one of the rings on this fellow's hand. He 
will now serve his country for his country's good. 

Randolph : Impossible! I did not steal this ring. 

Sergeant: How did you come by it, then? 

Randolph : \^Hauo;htily."\ 'I'hat is none of your business. 

Sergeant : Yes, it is, my cove. That ring was stolen 
several weeks ago. The owner put us on the scent, and we 
have followed the fox to his hole. 

Slaughter : \_Addressing Randolph.^ I do not wish to have 
any disturbance before my guests here to-night. Will you not 
explain how that ring came into your possession? and if your 
explanation is satisfactory, I have no doubt Init that these of- 
ficers will no longer attempt to arrest you. 

Randolph : I decline to explain how I came possessed of 
this ring. I will say this much, I did not steal it. 

Sergp:anT: Ah! you have a partner, then? Well, as we 
are after the real thief, tell us who your partner was, and where 
he is, and we may let you off. 

Randolph : Was this ring indeed stolen ? 

Sergeant: Yes; don't waste any more time; out with it, 
and we may let you off. I don't mind saying I admire your 
pluck and the science by which you have floored }-our man, 
but there are more of us here, and >ou will be overpowered in 
the end. 

Slaughter ; Yes ; it will be much better for }'ou to disclose 



22 The Lost Diamond. 

the real thief. The crime, if proved on you, will send you to 
the penitentiary. From whom did you get that ring? 

Randolph : I still decline to tell. \^They prepaid to close in 
on hini.^ Sergeant, if this ring was stolen by the person from 
whom I received it, I will never reveal it ; but I will make no 
further resistance to your execution of the law. \_Tliey are about 
to handcuff ]ii))i, 7chcn Laura enters from door, follotved a little 
later by Arundel, icho is visibly disturbed at sight of Policenie?i.'\ 

Laura : Father, what means all this ? 

Slaughter: (iO back, my child; this is no place for you. 
These officers have just arrested this person with one of those 
stolen diamonds on his finger. He refuses to tell from whom 
he received it, and they are therefore taking him into custody.. 

Laura : [^Looking- at the ring , then at Randolph, and starts as 
she sees hini.^ He got that ring from me. \_Discovering Arun- 
del, and pointing towards hivi.'\ That man there put it on mj' 
finger. [^Policonen start toiva7'ds Arundel, leho turns and imme- 
diately flees. Exit at A . Policemen start hurriedly after him.^ 

C^SAR : He called me niggar ! \_Runs after him.^ 

Sergeant : Ah ! ah ! That, then, is the trail. {^Turning to 
Randolph.^ I beg your pardon, sir; I onl}^ did my duty. 

Slaughter : Why, Sergeant, you must be mistaken ; that is 
Archibald Arundel, Esq., Earl of Warwick, and heir to an 
English dukedom. 

Sergeant : He ! he ! he ! Ha ! ha ! ha ! Haw ! haw ! haw ! 
Earl of bosh ! That is Tom Scruggins, a clever dupe. We 
had him on our list as a hotel jumper, but never as a thief be- 
fore. 

Slaughter ; (ireat heavens ! Can that be true? \^Aside.^ 
What an escape ! 

Sergeant : As true as preaching. 

Slaughter : \_Aside to Sergeant. By-play bet2cce7i Laura 
and Randolph.'\ Sergeant, if you catch him and land him where 



The Lost Diamond. 2^ 

his mouth will be kept locked u]) for nian>- years, I lune a 
handsome thing for >ou here. [ Taps his pocket-book. 7\) 
/.aura.'] Come, m\- child, let us return to our guests, lest 
by noting our absence they ma>- become aware of what has 
taken place. 

\_A noise is heard, lintcr Anoidel J ro»i b\ Behind him Police- 
man, then Ccesar, then other Policemen. Aiundel stumbles and 
falls, ti(r7is over and fires a pistol, killing First Policeman. 
CcEsar grabs him a7id punches him 7chile others hold him.] 

C^SAR : You called me a niggar ! You called me a niggar ! 

[^Curtain falls, ending scene.] 



TABLEAU. 



EXPLANATION. 

The curtain rises upon Tableau, 
discloses two views, the in- 
teriors of a cathedral and a 
prison. 

In cathedra], Slaughter, Laura, 
and Cgesar advance from door 
to music. At railing Slaughter 
hands Laura over to Randolph. 
They kneel and go through 
wedding service in pantomime. 

In prison sergeant and police- 
man, Arundel in execution 
robes. Priest walks back- 
wards holding up crucifix. 
As wedding service goes on, 
Arundel ascends gallows. 
Curtain drops as the wedding 
party rise, and noose put on 
Arundel. 



O 

3 

o o 



GROINED 

WINDOW. 



U 



1. Slaughter. 

2. Laura. 

3. Caesar hold- 

ing up 
Laura's 
train. 
Randoljih. 



GROINED 

WINDOW. 



INTERIOR OF CATHEDRAL. 






X 





2 1 3 

o 

4 

INTERIOR OF PRISON. 



1. Arundel. 

2. Sergeant. 

3. Policeman. 

4. Priest. 



n 
u 



Gallows. 



PRESS COMMENTS ON TEE H PfinENOT LOVERS. 

ISMe, Feb. 19, 1889.] ^ 

"The Huguenot Lovers." A tale of the' Old Dominion. By Collinson 

PiERREPONT Edwards Burgwyn. Richmond. Published by the author. 
Mr. Burgwyn has written a most pleasant story. The characters are well 
chosen and move with ease, and the conception of the story is original, and is 
smoothly carried out. A practical lesson it teaches is how Northern men are led 
to give up their prejudices against the South when they come in contact with its 
people and learn what they really are. The v*rriter exhibits a vivid descriptive 
power in many passages, such as the winter scene on Charles river, and the 
rapid sketch of the battle at Fredericksburg. Equally impressive are the descrip- 
tions of the East River bridge, the City Hall in Philadelphia, and the first view 
of Washington. Many points of interest in Richmond are dwelt upon, and 
some of the men most prominent in our public life figure in these pages. 
" Edyth " and "Maud" are both well drawn, " Randolph Carter " is a faithful 
type of the Virginia gentleman, and his brother, " Peyton," is often seen in our 
hotels and at our watering places. The apostrophe to love possesses marked 
rhetorical power, and is one of the most striking and memorable passages in the 
book. Mr. BuRGWYN is to be congratulated upon this successful literary effort, 
which, it is to be hoped, will be followed by others. 

\_Richmond Times.'] 
"The Huguenot Lovers." This is the title of a book recently published by 
Major C. P. E. Burgwyn, of this city, which has already received a num. 
ber of complimentary notices from the Richmond press. 

A careful reading of the book shows that it is a work oi decided merit. Major Burgwyn has 
always been known in this city as a careful, conscientious, and hardworking civil engineer', who 
has risen to deserved prominence in his profession. His most intimate friends, however, never 
accused him of being of a romantic turn of mind, and his development into the author of a love 
story was therefore a decided surprise, 

The book is written in exactly such a style as would be expected by a practical man who oc- 
casionally takes mental recreation. The love part of the story is portrayed solely for the pur- 
pose of relieving the main object of the author, that of disabusing the Northern mind of the falla- 
cies which Northern professional South-hating politicians are so fond of industriously circulating 
regarding alleged barbarous treatment of Northern prisoners in the South during the war. The 
refutation of this charge, as presented in the scene between " Colonel Randolph " and " Bldyth," 
at Libby Prison, is complete, and it nothing else is accomplished by the book. Major Burgwyn 
may be well satisfied with his success. 

{Critic, February 24, 1889.] . 
" The Huguenot Lovers." A Tale of the Old Dominion. By C. P. E. Bur- 
gwyn. From the author. 
A novel from the pen of Mr. Burgwyn will be read with interest by his many Richmond 
friends. To their personal interest in the author will be added the pleasure of an ideal Virginia 
story. The local coloring of the work, as well as the faithful portraiture of typical Virginia char- 
acters, is marked. The descriptions of Washington. Richmond, and the battle of Fredericksburg 
are vivid, faithful and accurate. " Edyth ' attracts us by her purity and highmindednessas well 
as by the beauty of her form and face, whilst the Carters possess the manly virtues that should 
mark those who bear that name. The interest of the story is well sustained, whilst MV. Bur- 
gwyn's pages are often illumined by a genuine eloquence and tender pathos. 

[Richmond Dispatch^ February 15, 1889.] 
" The Huguenot Lovers." A Tale of the Old Dominion. By C. P. E. Bur- 
wyn, A. B., C. E., M. Am. Soc. C. E., &c., &c., &c Richmond, Va. 
Published by the author, 1889. 
Another Richmond author. We have not yet read the book, b\lt shall do so as soon as con- 
venient. A mere glance at its pages tells us that it indicates that the true fire of genius can be 
claimed in its author. 

For sale at the book stores. 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 

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016 102 508 2 



